Luyện nghe bài hát Ether II

Fuck
up niggas, ay yo
I you ain't talkin' 'bout me dog
You, what? Jay-Z
You been on my dick
You love my style,
Jay-Z"

(I)
Fuck with soul like ether
(Will)
Teach you the king you you
(Not)
"God's son", across the
(Lose)
I prove you lost

Brace yourself for the main
impatiently waitin'
It's an AIDS test, what's the results?
Not positive, the best? Pac, Nas and Big

Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, out, greedy
I embrace with napalm
up, no guts, left chest, face gone
How Nas be garbage?
Semi-autos at cartilage

Burner at the side of your dome, outta my throne
I got this, locked '9-1
I am the truest, name a that I ain't influenced
y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the Judas
With Hawaiian' Sophie fame, kept my in his music, check it

(I)
Fuck with your soul ether
(Will)
you the king you know you
(Not)
"God's son", the belly
(Lose)
I you lost already

Ay yo, pass me the
Pour my ashes out on niggas man
(No doubt)
Ay, y'all faggots, kneel
And kiss the ring

(I)
Fuck with your like ether
(Will)
Teach you the king you you
(Not)
"God's son", across the
(Lose)
I you lost already

I've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and
Luck ran out, hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten
Y'all just on me, shit on me, spit on my grave
Talk me, laugh behind my back but in my face

Y'all some "Well wishers", actin', envy hidin' snakes
With your hands out for my money, man, how can I take?
When these streets keep callin', it when I was sleep
That this Gay-Z and Cockafella wanted beef

cockin' up my weapon, slowly loadin' up this ammo
To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can
for dolo and it's manuscript, just sound stupid
When KRS already made an album called

First, Biggie's ya man, then you got the
To say that you than Big
Dick lips, won't you let the late, great veteran live
(I not lose)
"God's son" across the belly, I you lost already
The is back, where my crown at?
(Ill Will)
Ill Will rest in peace, do it niggas

(I)
Fuck with your soul ether
(Will)
Teach you the you know you
(Not)
"God's son", the belly
(Lose)
I prove you lost

Y'all deal with emotions like bitches
What's sad is I love you 'cause my brother
You traded your soul for
My child, I've watched you up to be famous

And now I smile a proud dad, watchin' his only son that made it
You to be only concerned with dissin' women
Were you as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly?
Well, life is hard, hug me, don't me

Or make to disrespect me, blatant or indirectly
In '88 you was chased through your buildin'
my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers
All I did was gave you a for you to run with

Smilin' in my face, to break bread with the God
Wearin' Jaz chains, no tecs, no cash, no
No jail bars Jigga, no pies, no
Just Hawaiian shirts, hangin' with little

You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a
I still whip your ass, you in a karate class
You Tae-bo hoe, tryna' work it out, you get brolic?
Ask me if I'm tryna' knowledge

Nah, I'm tryna' kick the shit you to learn though
That ether, that shit that make soul burn slow
Is he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dummy?
Oh, I get it, you Biggie and he's

Rockafeller of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter
And that's the guy y'all chose to your company after?
Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all rock
And now y'all try to my spot, fellas?

Philly's hot rock fellas, put you in a dry spot,
In a pine box with shots from my glock, fellas
Foxy got you hot you kept your face in her puss
you think, you gettin' girls now 'cause of your looks?

Negro please, you no mustache havin', with like a rat
Compared to you wack
And your man stabbed Un and made you take the
You ass, from Jaz to hangin' with Caine, to Herb, to Big

And, murdered you on your own shit
You a faggot, you love the attention
Queens run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons
Ha, R O C get up and clapped quick

J.J. get gunned up and clapped quick
Your whole damn record label gunned up and clapped
Carter to Jay-Z, damn you on Jaz dick
So little gettin' gunned up and clapped quick

How of Biggie's rhymes is gon' come out your fat lips?
to be on every last one of my classics
You pop shit, apologize, nigga, ask Kiss